April 26, 2009
By Francesca Casilli BRONZE, Florence, Other
Francesca Casilli BRONZE, Florence, Other
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

And I was forced to use his heart
To make clouds in the sky
As it had reflected itself on the windows
And had caused stencils to form there.
So I quietly traced my lips
Against the cut-out heavens
And used my tongue to colour in
All the empty spaces I had caused.
Leaving parts of myself cradling
In his soft grasp
As he breathed life back into me.
Then he whispered
But I couldn't make out his words
Over the riot my pulse had become.
So I just smiled -
And it seemed to be enough.

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